Friday Night Fights: Fantasy Character Round

This week is the second round of FNF which is the fantasy characters. Below you will find the poll to vote for up to five of this weeks entrants Once every 24 hours. On Thursday April 18th at 12:00 None EDT ( GMT -4 ) the polls will close and the top 8 entrants based on your votes will advanced to begin a series of head to head battles in a traditional brackets tournament.

It wasn’t *that* bad was it? After all, it was only a dog. Well, it had been the Empress’ favourite hunting dog. But then the Raxx’l captain received transfer orders to the Western Border Patrol. “Banishment – or death! – would’ve been quicker!” he fumed all the way from the Golden City, “What chance of glory do I have out there?”. It was that bad.

“Are you sure?” the Western Border Commander questioned his scout. The dusty soldier nodded his head. “Anaazti? In these parts? And with a Dragon?” At least relief was on its way. It was that bad.

No invading army has crossed the Forlorn Wastes in a millennium. Hespedrene lore recounts tales of cavalry units slaughtered by the sands themselves, a myth encouraged by the Dervishes. The elite of the Ogrillon Compact’s border guard, the Dervishes are fearless, camouflaged to blend in with the sand, and endowed with the ability to maintain their equilibrium while spinning at tremendous speed. An attack by Dervishes is a haboob with blades. If you see an unmoving Dervish, it means you’re already dying.

All the villagers had heard the stories, the stranger approaching from the east. A Greek; stronger, faster and more skilled in battle than it was known to be possible. Although known of the stories carried a name and varied in details, the one common trait was the pelt he wore upon his shoulders. For this reason, they knew him as The Lion. So when a man with such a pelt arrived, they knew to keep their distance. Except in the market district, where their fear was overwhelmed by the desire to sell.

“Looking for anything?”

“New robes, fresh in!”

“For you? Half price”

“Wary of your great travels, stranger?” The Lion stopped, and turned towards the vender. “Yes, I can see you’ve that you’ve come far. Are you familiar to the area?” The Lion cast his eye over the stall.

“Once, a long time ago. I’m just passing through.”

“Ah of course, might I where you seek?”

“I seek nowhere, merely waiting for a sign.”

“Ha yes, aren’t we all.” The merchant slide a bundle of folded cloth in front of the stranger. “Perhaps however, this too will interest you.” As the Lion’s hand reached towards it, a great roar was heard behind them. In the distance, smoke and fire began pouring out of the mountain.

“By the fields of Tartarus” With his attention diverted, the trader threw the cloth off the trinket and forced the Lion’s hand upon it. The darkening skies were broken by a momentary burst of blue.

“For the mother.” With his customer gone, the merchant grabbed what wares he could and fled Pompeii.

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